


Throw destiny out with the bathwater, I make my own path

by Khashana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dean is chill with dying, Jumping on the Bandwagon, M/M, Mild Suicidal Ideation, actually thematically appropriate series finale, also sam is there, badly handled grief, series finale fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khashana/pseuds/Khashana
Summary: Dean and Cas in a barn, redux.Sam doesn't freeze, and so Dean doesn't die.“Dean, youjustproved that you’re more than a hunter, than a character in Chuck’s story with a set destiny. Thereisno ‘it was always going to be this way’ anymore.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Throw destiny out with the bathwater, I make my own path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willowoak_walker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoak_walker/gifts).



> Yeah I'm jumping on the wagon, but two cakes, right? Or, three hundred plus cakes, in this case. Same diff.  
> Disclaimer: I stopped watching SPN in season 9 and then Despair aired and Tumblr exploded. I figured I had to watch the series finale, either to be there for canon requited Destiel or to have a front row seat as everything burned. So I did a speedrun of a couple episodes a season, including only "Atomic Monsters" and "The Trap" out of S15 (yes, you read that right, I didn't watch 15x19) and, indeed, had a front row seat as everything burned. So I am getting all of my understanding of the season's themes and the kind of finale they were actually building to from tumblr meta and Atomic Monsters.  
> Consequently, if there are any glaring canon-continuity errors, please do let me know, that sort of thing bothers me.  
> Anyway, I was summarizing the episode and the state of Tumblr to Will, who (despite not being in this fandom at all) pitched the following plot bunny, and I had to write it.  
> Thanks to Raven for the quick beta.  
> I'll return to my regularly scheduled ATLA programming shortly.

“I was always going to go out like this, Sam. We knew that.”

It seems right, somehow. These last few days have been torture, and Dean’s been shoving down the grief as hard as he possibly can, certain that if he lets himself feel, he’ll just…well, it won’t be pretty.

Sam shakes his head, hard. “No, Dean. Just, no. _Jack!_ Get down here!”

“He’s not gonna come, Sammy. He told us he was a hands off kinda God.”

“Jack!” yells Sam again, apparently not listening. “We need you!”

Dean’s hands are going numb. At this rate, he’s going to bite it and Sam is going to be too busy yelling his head off for Dean to say _goodbye._ That’s all he wants. Hell, maybe he’ll get to finally stop feeling so goddamn guilty and lost and like they didn’t just _win_. He’s Captain America putting the plane in the water. It freakin’ sucks that it’s a vamp who got lucky instead of throwing himself in front of a gun for Sammy again, or the world, again, but he’s okay with it.

Cas has died before. But there’s always been some imminent threat to the world or _something_ for Dean to distract himself with. Something he had to keep going for, or lots of people would die. There was never any time to wallow. This has been practically like a vacation, and Dean hates it.

Besides, Jack isn’t coming.

“Sammy,” he tries again. “What’s the point of free will if he’s just going to come down and save us every time we get in a tight spot?”

“What’s the point of sacrificing myself to save your life if you’re going to get yourself killed days later by _accident_?” says Cas from somewhere outside Dean’s field of vision.

“ _Cas._ ” Sam’s voice cracks on the word as he moves aside.

Cas wraps an arm around Dean’s waist and tugs him off whatever it was the wall had stabbed him with. Before Dean can do more than gasp with the pain, Cas has pressed two fingers of the other hand to his forehead, and the familiar cool sensation of angelic healing sweeps through him. Strength returns to his legs, and he can support his own weight again.

“Thanks, man,” he says, and it’s so, so inadequate. He reaches out to give Cas a friendly pat on the shoulder, then ends up just holding on, terrified Cas is just going to wink out of existence again. “How’d you get out?”

Why can’t he stop saying stupid things? He almost doesn’t care how Cas got out, the important thing is that he’s here, but it’s all he can think of to keep the conversation going, to keep Cas from leaving again.

“Jack,” says Cas simply.

“I thought he was keepin’ his fingers out of human stuff?”

“He rescued me at the same time he did everyone else. And he didn’t interfere. He merely passed on a message he thought I’d want. _I_ never made any such commitment.”

“So you’ve been just letting us think you were dead?”

“I’ve been helping Jack redesign Heaven. I said what I needed to say, and I, I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.” All this time Cas has been staring at him, like he does, but at these words he looks away. “You seemed to be doing all right without me,” he mutters.

Dean wraps his other arm around Cas and draws him in for a hug.

“I figured you wanted me to keep living.” His voice cracks.

“And yet you got yourself impaled by a clumsy vampire,” says Cas disapprovingly, and Dean pulls him closer, losing the battle with the tears.

“I’m not okay, man,” he whispers, and Cas holds him.

“Obviously.” His tone is gruff, but his hug is comforting. “Dean, you _just_ proved that you’re more than a hunter, than a character in Chuck’s story with a set destiny. There _is_ no ‘it was always going to be this way’ anymore.”

“Takes time to sink in, I guess,” says Dean, barely aware of what’s coming out of his mouth. “Cas, don’t leave again. Don’t do that to us.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to come back,” Cas repeats. “I didn’t anticipate having to face the consequences of my actions, beyond the obvious.”

“When do you ever?”

There’s no heat in it, and Cas ignores him. “It was going to be awkward, and I hate awkward. You’d turn me down, you’d try to be nice about it, but things would never be the same, and it just seemed better this way.”

Dean’s managed to get his tears under control, and he pulls back enough to wipe his face on his sleeve and look his angel in the eye.

“Cas, you dumbass. Even if I didn’t feel the same way, you’re still _family._ How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Even if you didn’t feel the same way?” Cas repeats. Dean plays back his own words and abruptly can’t look at Cas. “Dean?”

Dean imagines he can hear hope in his voice, hope being desperately tamped down but springing up anyways.

“I don’t know,” he manages. “I never thought you could—so I never considered it.”

“Oh my god, you have literally been dating for years.”

Dean has actually forgotten that Sam is there.

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” he barks, embarrassment flooding his veins.

“I _did._ I snuck out quietly so you could have your moment in private, but there is only so much I can clean two machetes, reorganize the trunk, and distract the children. Dean, you gave him a _Zeppelin mixtape._ How could that possibly have gone over your head?”

Dean glares at him. Sam sighs theatrically, flings both hands in the air, and walks out again. Dean turns back to Cas.

“Can’t you just read my mind?” he begs. “Save us both having to figure it out?”

Maybe it’s Cas’s doing, eyes glowing blue and fingers reaching out as if to pluck the knowledge from Dean’s head. Maybe it’s just memories, finally arranging themselves in an order that makes sense now that he’s letting them.

Sam is right, annoyingly enough, Dean has a hundred percent been flirting with Cas for years without even really thinking about it and living without Cas is so bad he was literally looking forward to dying and his very soul feels like it’s singing just standing here wrapped in each other and Cas is his _home._

Cas is his home.

He still can’t make himself say the words, but Cas is smiling at him, big and overjoyed, like he was right before the Empty took him, but there’s no creeping blackness coming up to swallow him whole, and Dean can’t help but grin back.

“May I kiss you?” says Cas.

Dean nods and tilts his head to meet him.

_Oh._

So this is what it feels like, to kiss someone you care for.

Cas smiles into the kiss and Dean _loves_ him.

He prays it as hard as he can, _I love you, I love you,_ until Cas pulls back, still looking euphoric, and says, “I know.”

Dean is so proud of him for that reference he’s struck momentarily dumb.

“Look, I am very happy for you for finally getting your shit together,” yells Sam, “but the kids are about to stage a mutiny, so can we go already?”

“We have time,” Cas tells him quietly. “Since I’m assuming you will no longer be _giving up_ because something got in a _lucky shot._ ”

“I got an angel at my beck and call,” says Dean flippantly, smiling as they turn to walk out of the barn.

“You always have.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't USUALLY reblog a whole lot of Supernatural (this week has been an exception) but my tumblr is @khashanakalashtar for anyone interested


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